But i’m comfortable.

There’s a lot to be said,

for comfortable.

Maybe not happy,

not fulfilled,

but it could be worse,

it could be painful,

embarrassing even.

I might fail,

fail in public,

and people would talk, would laugh.

I might not be able to retreat

into the shadows,

back here,

back to being comfortable.

Ask me again,

another day,

not tomorrow though.


2 thoughts on “1910 CROSSING THE THRESHOLD

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